


#19: Don't Mention Sunburns. Believe Me, They Know.

by Knitwritezombie (Missa_G)



Series: 100 Rules for Adults (That Clint Barton Never Learned) [19]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Sunburns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 03:38:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2453288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missa_G/pseuds/Knitwritezombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil goes on vacation and comes back...different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#19: Don't Mention Sunburns. Believe Me, They Know.

About two years into his employment to SHIELD, roughly 18 months after being hooked up with Coulson as his handler, Coulson was forced to go on vacation while Clint was sent to the Academy for some training that had been overlooked when he’d first been recruited (he may have mentioned wanting to get his GED to Coulson, as well as his interest in going to college). So, Clint attended a week of classes, some geared toward getting him flight qualified, some recertifying himself for field work (basic first aid, orienteering, etc), and a crash course in basic ed to help him get underway studying for the GED.

Coulson checked in every couple of days for the ten days he’d been effectively banished from SHIELD. Clint wasn’t sure exactly where Coulson had gone, but he knew his boss had left the city.

At the end of the ten days, Clint strode back into HQ in his usual black cargo pants, black t-shirt and boots, and made his way to the conference room where, according to the email he’d received, he was supposed to have a mission briefing.

He found Coulson already there, his back to the door as Clint entered, finding the usual tray of coffee and pastries on the table. He snagged a cup and a Danish, and flopped into his seat as Coulson turned, and promptly bit his tongue.

“Damn, sir. Nice raccoon eyes,” he said.

Coulson looked like he’d been trapped in an oven with goggles in. His entire face was red, save the large white circles around his eyes, and stripes along his temples.

“Thank you, Barton,” Coulson said dryly. “I hadn’t noticed.” Though he moved as fluidly as ever (Clint wondered if he’d gotten laid; there was a new looseness to his shoulders), he barely moved his mouth while he spoke. It was probably painful.

“Ski trip?” Clint asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Coulson hummed in agreement. 

“You know, you’re going to ruin the junior agents’ image of you not being human like that,” Clint continued.

“Barton.”

“Hm?”

“Shut up.”


End file.
